


You Cut Through All the Noise

by AnxiousOddish



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Alice is wonderful and trying her best, Angst, Assume he's autistic in everything i write, Divorce, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Paul is everyone's emotional support, Though it's much less explicit in this one, autistic paul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21516145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxiousOddish/pseuds/AnxiousOddish
Summary: Alice's parents are fighting a lot, and she's struggling. The whole situation isn't ideal for Bill, either. At least they aren't alone.
Relationships: Alice & Bill (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals), Alice & Paul, Paul Matthews & Bill
Comments: 15
Kudos: 154





	1. Alice

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally two separate fic ideas that became three that I weaved into one fic, then the original idea got scrapped, and this is what remains. Hope you like it!

Alice was smarter than anyone gave her credit for. Sure, her grades in school were good. She’d always been a decent student. Teachers liked her. Why wouldn’t they? She was a good student, handing in her work on time, raising her hand when no one else did. There was nothing quite like seeing a little gold star on her test, or her mother’s grin when she made honor roll. Her dad took every opportunity to boast that his little girl was going places, Yale, probably. He was so proud. It made Alice uncomfortable sometimes, but it was better than the alternative. She wanted him to be proud of her, so she blushed and accepted his overenthusiastic praise. Sometimes she wished that he’d notice other things, the arbitrary numbers that labeled her intelligent in the class came so easily to her. She didn’t feel like she deserved the attention for something that she didn’t work particularly hard for.

When Alice was fourteen, her grades began to slip. Homework stopped being handed in as often as it should be. It wasn’t through lack of effort, Alice never stopped trying her very best. It was sleepless nights. It was shaking hands in the school bathroom, water splashed on her face to try to regain composure. It was Alice staring at a blank screen in the middle of the night, the cursor blinking over and over and over. 

It was yelling just outside her door, fights that never went anywhere, just in circles closing tighter and tighter, closing around Alice’s throat until it was all she could think about. It was chilly silences at the dinner table, and no acknowledgments or praise when Alice managed to scramble together a B. It was so much harder than it used to be. Trying to write an essay with tears making the screen blurry wasn’t easy, as it turned out. Did her parents even notice? Did they care? They were too busy being determined to not care about each other to notice her.

Alice’s teachers noticed, though. They called her back after class and gave the same tired spiel about her not living up to her potential. Alice was convinced they all followed some sort of script. Occasionally they’d ask if everything was okay back home. Usually, they didn’t. It made no difference to Alice, she wasn’t going to break down in an empty classroom to an adult she didn’t know, open up about the fears keeping her up at night. This tension, the fighting, it had to be temporary. There was no other alternative.

Alice knew she needed to talk to someone. Her fears were hardening, crystallizing, and she didn’t want to know what would happen if they shattered. She didn’t need to explode in front of her parents, they were struggling enough. How long had they been like this and she simply hadn’t noticed? Did they hide it for her sake, until it was too large to hide behind polite smiles and empty gestures of affection? 

Was it her fault?

Alice dreaded coming home, but she didn’t know where else to go. The few friends she had, acquaintances, really, had gotten irritated by the dark cloud following her wherever she went. They’d stopped inviting her over. Alice didn’t blame them, she didn’t want to be around herself either.

Alice had been walking home from school one day, and the anxiety tightening in her chest was crushing. The idea of going back, seeing her mother greet her with a strained smile as if nothing had changed was unbearable. Alice didn’t need to check the time, she could count down the minutes until her father came through the door from the building tension radiating off her mother.

No, she couldn’t go back. Not yet, at least. Alice didn’t really think about where she was going as she took a turn, one that didn’t lead home. She didn’t think about where she was going until she made her way to an apartment building. It was silly, Alice thought as she knocked tentatively. He probably wasn’t home. He’d be at work, with her dad. She hadn’t seen him in ages, and it wasn’t like her to just visit alone. Too late to turn back, though, and she stood awkwardly, fully expecting the door to never open, force her to abandon this plan and go home. She was so certain that it was all for nothing that she jumped when the door swung open.

Paul’s eyes widened, but he smiled when he saw her. A genuine smile. It warmed Alice’s heart a little, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen anyone so happy to see her. Her doubts washed away as he welcomed her inside without question.

The nice thing about Paul was that he was blunt. Not harsh, just honest. He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. The second Alice saw him, the sympathy in his eyes, she knew he was all too aware of what was going on with her dad. There were dark circles around his eyes, and she realized with a jab to her heart that he must be struggling too. Her dad was his best friend. As hard as it was to see her parents’ relationship falling apart… At least she didn’t sit next to him all day, watching his misery grow like Paul did. Alice wondered for a moment if this was a good idea. Paul’s hand was at his side, tapping his thumb against his fingers repeatedly, one after the other. Alice chewed her lip. He was nervous; Alice assumed he didn’t know what to say to her. This wasn’t normal, it wasn’t like her to drop by alone with no warning for some emotional support. She shouldn’t have come, it wasn’t fair to him. She was about to apologize and turn around when he gestured to the couch and spoke. “Do you want to talk about it? I just got the new Mario Kart, that’s an option too.”

Simple and direct, she should have guessed he’d know just what to say. Paul had known her practically her whole life, Alice had clear memories of Paul picking her up from school and taking her to get ice cream, grinning at her and telling her not to tell her dad. She didn’t have anyone else to go to, and she needed _ someone _ who understood how she was feeling. Alice had spent so long pointedly not talking about what things were like with her parents, and she suddenly realized that she didn’t know how to start. She wasn’t ready. He’d given her a choice, and Alice decided that she could talk about it another time, when she felt less fragile. Alice smiled softly and sat down on the couch, grabbing a Joy-Con. “Toadette will kick your ass.”

Paul dropped onto the cushion next to her, bumping his shoulder against hers. “Language!” He chastised. Alice stuck out her tongue, he’d been cursing around her before she even knew what the words meant.

She didn’t even realize that she’d never told her parents where she was until Paul paused the game to answer his phone. Alice took the chance to check hers, and winced when she saw her notifications. Missed call after missed call. Whoops. She’d get an earful when she got home. That’s what she got for forgetting to turn off silent mode after her test. The anxiety that’d briefly faded moved to the forefront again, and her thoughts blurred. She was so stupid, she must have worried them so much. 

“Bill, don’t worry, Alice is with me.” Paul spoke softly into his phone, drawing Alice back to reality. A pause. Alice could hear her father’s frantic tone, but not his words. “She’s fine! We’re just playing Mario Kart.” Paul listened, closing his eyes. “Okay. I’ll get her home, don’t worry.” Alice tensed. It hadn’t been _ that _ long. Alice nudged him and he turned to her. She shook her head a little, hoping he’d get it. “There’s still a few tracks we haven’t tried, I was going to order pizza.” Paul spoke casually. Alice held her breath. She listened to the response on the other end of the phone, catching only a few words. Homework was the only one that stood out. Paul cut him off. “I need to go, bye!” Alice almost choked out a laugh. Paul was many things, diplomatic was not one of them. 

Paul hung up and unceremoniously unpaused their game, making Alice scramble to keep up as he took a little head start. Alice finally relaxed. They could talk about everything that had been going on, the thoughts and terrors keeping her up at night. Paul would be there when she was ready.


	2. Bill

Bill knew Alice was smart. As he drove home, his hand on the golden retriever in the seat beside him, he knew she’d see right through him. Bringing home a dog, what was he thinking? He’d mentioned it to his wife, of course. He wasn’t going to just come home from work with a sixty-pound dog with no warning. She hadn’t been pleased with the idea, but she saw the merits. Anything to take that haunted look from Alice’s eyes. He’d dropped by the shelter after work with wavering determination. He knew Alice loved dogs, she’d asked for one for years. It wasn’t that he hated the idea, it was more his wife. Alice was young then, she was convinced Alice wouldn’t do a good job taking care of a puppy and it’d be left to her parents. Bill hoped that getting an adult dog would solve at least part of that issue, he was specifically looking for one that was house trained.

Bill absentmindedly scratched behind Daisy’s ear. She was a sweet one, and they’d said she was calm. Calm was exactly what he was looking for, it’d be a stark contrast to the turmoil in their household these days. Bill swallowed. How had this happened? Everything had fallen apart so quickly. He was pulling into the driveway of his house, filled with dread, and there was a nine-year-old golden lab in the seat of his car. He hadn’t planned on getting one so old, but he’d felt guilty. Apparently, she’d been there for a long time. Bill turned off the car and took a deep breath, letting his head rest on the steering wheel for a moment. He took a minute to attempt to put his thoughts in order, but a quiet thumping drew his attention. Bill turned his head, and in the dark of the car he could only see Daisy’s silhouette, her tail hitting the seat with every wag. Bill exhaled, a tentative smile rising on his face. He’d never had a dog before, and he was already understanding the appeal. Daisy had no idea where she was or what was coming, and she was facing it head-on with excitement.

Daisy’s introduction to the family was smooth, though Bill was right about Alice. Alice couldn’t have been more delighted to meet Daisy, and the feeling was clearly mutual by the way Alice was bowled over and lavished with kisses. Daisy was an overachiever. Her job was to make Alice feel better, and she fulfilled her duties with gusto. Sure, it was startlingly transparent, and the look Alice gave Bill… He might as well have given her a card that said: “Sorry your parents’ marriage is falling apart, here, have a dog to help you through these hard times.”

  
Bill supposed it didn’t matter if she knew. The deed was done, he only hoped it worked. Bill and his wife were very clear, Daisy was hers, her dog, her responsibility, and Alice had to look after her. Alice was fifteen now, she could handle it. This, too, was carefully planned. Give Alice something to do, some control in her life.

As Alice and Daisy bonded, the cracks in Bill’s marriage grew larger and larger, until he couldn’t gather the strength to keep patching them up. One night, the dam finally burst. It was just another screaming match, and thank goodness, Alice was out walking Daisy. She’d been doing that more than she needed to. Giving Alice an excuse to get out of the house was an unexpected bonus. Bill was sure the walls would shake from the sounds of their fighting, but maybe that was just in his head. That was the first night they’d ever spoken the word. It’d been on the tips of both of their tongues for ages, slowly rising from their throats where it’d been choking them. Divorce. Knowing it was coming didn’t make it any easier. The silence that followed was stifling, and Bill couldn’t even manage a goodbye, a rebuttal, any denial of the inevitable. He just turned without another word and left. He couldn’t muster the energy to slam the front door. His hands shook as he gripped the steering wheel. Bill just needed to see Paul, he needed a friend.

He hoped Alice would be home soon, it was getting late. The sun was lowering, setting the sky ablaze and Bill squinted against the glare. By the time Bill pulled up to Paul’s building he’d calmed down a bit, the emotions threatening to boil over safely smothered. The fight was nothing new, really. If he tried, he could pretend that it meant nothing, that they could still fix it.

Bill knocked on Paul’s door hard enough that his knuckles ached. Paul opened the door, and before Bill had a chance to say anything, a golden ball of fur squeezed passed Paul and slammed into Bill’s legs. The shock hit him nearly as hard as Daisy did as he kneeled to the floor to greet her properly. “What are you doing here?” He cooed to Daisy, giving her a scratch right behind her ears just how she liked. Bill looked up at Paul, making it clear that he was expecting an answer from him. Daisy couldn’t speak, of course.

“Alice dropped by about twenty minutes ago, she’s just in the bathroom.” Paul answered, patting Daisy’s head and stepping back to let her and Bill inside the apartment. Bill hesitated. He wasn’t sure he wanted Alice to see him like this. She’d know at a glance that he was as crumbling. He should leave before she noticed him there. Bill scanned the apartment, the cards on the table and the half eaten plate of cookies. He knew she’d started coming here the year before, and he was grateful. She didn’t talk about friends at school often, and Bill was glad she had an adult to talk to about everything going on. Paul had been a staple in her life since she was a child, and Bill knew Paul cared about her. With a pang, Bill realized that Alice gravitated to another father figure when her actual father was too busy with his own struggles to help her with hers. As much as the thought hurt, his gratitude for Paul was overwhelming. Still, that meant that when Bill needed his friend, Paul wasn’t available.

Just as Bill decided to muster a quick excuse and leave, Alice wandered into the room. They locked eyes, and Bill didn’t have time to pretend things were fine. Alice’s face fell. She noticed these things far too quickly. He’d been hurting her so much… He had to do better. Bill nodded towards the cards abandoned on the table. “Mind dealing me in?” He was proud of himself, his voice didn’t waver.

As they sat down at Paul’s kitchen table and Daisy settled in between his and Alice’s chair, Bill did his best to stay lighthearted. This wasn’t quite right, he and Alice should be home, a family dinner with her loving parents waiting for her. Not in Paul’s apartment with cards and a plate full of cookies. No, it wasn’t what it should be, it was a shadow, but as Alice pushed the plate towards him and Paul offered Bill an encouraging smile, Bill’s strength grew. It was good enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check me out over at @anxiousoddish and @autistic-paul on tumblr if you want to yell at me for anything! Comments mean the world to me.


End file.
